Rabies Hunt
by FemaleChauvinist
Summary: With a rabies epidemic spreading fear through the town, the Cullens realize it's past time they took matters into their hands.


**Disclaimer:** While the attempt has been made to be medically accurate, some artistic license has been taken, and statements made by Carlisle and other medical personnel are not to be regarded as authoritative.

Recognizable characters and plotlines are the property of Stephenie Meyer; all original characters and story © 2018 FemaleChauvinist.

 _Do not post without permission. Do not copy/print without including the above disclaimer in its entirety._

 **A/N: The date of this story is correct for my alternate history, as described in my profile. There you can also find my explanation of how Bree came to live with the Cullens. Barbie**

 _Nessie married_

 **Carlisle**

"Paging Dr Cullen; Dr Carlisle Cullen to the emergency room."

I stood instantly, replacing the book I had been reading on the shelf and hurrying down the hall. Calling a surgeon to the emergency room usually meant someone was seriously injured, and my vampire hearing had detected a faint note of hysteria in the woman's voice.

I could smell blood the instant I walked through the doors; blood tainted with rabies. I groaned softly. _Not again._

The nurse fell into step beside me. "It's an eight-year-old girl, Dr Cullen," she explained, her tone businesslike. This particular nurse at least managed to keep her flirting for the times we didn't have a patient to tend to. "She was attacked by a mad dog; her left arm is…pretty torn up."

That was an understatement. I swore softly under my breath when I saw the mauled and lacerated arm.

The emergency doctor looked up. "Dr Cullen. As you can see, I've started her on blood and IV fluids, and we'll be giving her rabies vaccine. But we need your opinion on whether we should have her airlifted to the big hospital in the city."

I bent over the girl's arm, thankful that I wasn't human; even after centuries of being a doctor, the sight would have been enough to turn my stomach. "No. She's losing blood too fast; we need to try to take care of it here." It was a flimsy excuse; the plain truth was that without arrogance I knew myself to be a better surgeon than any of the city doctors with their fancy equipment.

I spoke in the tone that seldom invited argument, and I had been here long enough for them to be partially aware of my skill; the doctor nodded. "You'll be doing the surgery, so of course it's your call."

A short time later, the girl lay sedated on the operating table as I worked at putting her arm back together. I angled my body slightly, hiding my hands from the humans as I performed delicate surgery that should have taken a microsurgeon with a high-power microscope. I needed a microscope to see details on the cellular level, but anything bigger than that was visible to my naked eye, if I chose to focus on that level of detail.

At last I had repaired the damage to the best of my ability — or at least, as much of my ability as I dared use under the eyes of the humans — and the girl was ready to be moved to the ICU. I leaned against the wall, as if wearied by the hours of work, and rubbed my forehead with the back of my hand. Four rabies victims in a week…it was past time something was done about this.

 **oOo**

 **Emmett**

Our small town was in the grip of a rabies epidemic — the worst on record, according to the papers. Schools were keeping kids in the gym for recess, and at every commercial break local radio and TV stations were airing the warning to keep children and pets inside, to take the car even if going only a short distance, to call the police if you saw a stray dog or an animal behaving strangely.

We police had orders to shoot suspected cases on sight; the fear in the town was escalating into a near-panic. Even I could almost feel it.

The call came over our police radio; a woman had called in to report a stray dog in her yard. Wilson flipped the lights and siren on, and sped toward the house…if fifty miles per hour in a thirty mile per hour zone really counted as _speeding_. Sure, I'd ticketed people for less, but that didn't make this feel any faster. Not that the cruiser could handle much more, anyway.

"Kill the sirens," I told him, reaching over and shutting them off myself. "You're gonna scare the dog off before we get there."

"Oh…right…" he mumbled.

I glanced sideways at him; his face seemed a touch paler than normal. "You all right, Wilson?" I asked as he pulled up beside the curb.

"Yeah…sure. C'mon." He got out and led the way up to the front door as I tested the scents on the wind. Probably half the "rabid" dogs reported weren't really sick, but there was no doubt that this one was.

A woman answered the door to Wilson's knock, two children clinging fearfully to her legs. "You called to report a stray dog, ma'am?" He was trying to make his voice sound firm and sure of himself, but I detected the slight tremor.

"Yes," she whispered, glancing over her shoulder toward the back of the house. "It's still in the back yard…you can go through the house, or around by the side gate in the fence."

Wilson swallowed hard. "We'll go around. Thank you, ma'am."

He drew his gun as we stepped off the porch and toward the gate; I didn't bother. I tried to keep in front of the human, and he seemed content to let me as I pushed open the gate.

The dog was in the corner of the small yard; plenty close enough to sense my presence, but it merely crouched, growling through its foam-specked teeth. I took a step closer, but it showed no signs of fear. Of course, any animal that felt itself to be cornered might stand its ground, but this was something entirely different.

I could hear Wilson beginning to hyperventilate behind me; a quick glance showed his gun hand shaking so that I might have been afraid of being shot in the back if I had been human.

Turning back to the dog, I lifted my lip in a snarl and growled softly.

It answered with a ferocious growl and a crouch to spring.

Everything in me wanted to take it on barehanded, show it the folly of growling back at a vampire, but I knew I couldn't. With an almost bored slowness, I pulled my gun and fired, hitting it point-blank between the eyes.

"Is it — dead?" Wilson gasped.

"Yeah." I didn't even bother holding my breath as I walked to the corpse; the tainted blood smelled anything but appetizing. I carried the body back to the car, putting it in the special box in the trunk and fastening on a tag that told where it had been found.

When I turned back to Wilson, his face was even pastier than it had been before; he was starting to rival me for paleness. "Sit," I ordered, opening the passenger door of the cruiser.

He sank into the seat without arguing, while I went up to tell the woman we had killed the dog and would be on our way.

"Thank you," she said softly. "Was it…rabid?"

"Yes." No point in hedging; all the signs were there, even for humans.

She moaned softly. "I hate this! When are we going to be safe again, Officer?"

"Soon, I hope," I said, my voice holding a grim promise. Maybe I'd get my bare hands on a rabid dog, after all. "We'll be going now, but would you mind getting a glass of water for my partner?"

"Of course." She handed me the water in a paper cup, and I nodded my goodbye to her.

I slid into the driver's seat and passed the water to Wilson. "Drink that," I ordered him. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah." He sipped at the water as I started the car, frowning at its slight reluctance. I was really gonna have to get Rose to take a look at it sometime.

"It's dogs," he admitted quietly as I pulled away. "I was bitten badly when I was a kid; now I'm nervous even with lap dogs. I could never work with a force that had a K-9 unit… Look, McCarty, don't tell anyone, all right? The boys would never quit teasing me if they knew." He glanced sideways as if remembering that I was the worst joker on the force.

"Hey, the secret's safe with me," I assured him. 'Course, I wasn't promising not to give him a hard time about it when we were alone…

"Thanks," he said with relief. "I hope you don't think I'm a coward, McCarty; it's just… _dogs_." He shuddered at the word.

"You're no coward," I assured him quickly. There had been a moment one time when I had wished he was a little _less_ brave, as he had jumped in front of me to save me from a bullet he assumed I hadn't seen. I'd managed to block the shot with my hand and drive the bullet into the ground just in front of him without anyone seeing. Carlisle didn't expect me to protect everyone on the force, but I knew he wouldn't be too happy if I actually let a human take a bullet for me.

We delivered the dead dog to the station and were just returning to our beat when we got another call, this time about a stray dog in one of the city parks. Wilson slumped against the seat. "Twice in one day," he groaned.

"Stay in the car; I'll take care of it," I offered.

He shook his head. "No…I'll be all right."

I shrugged and pulled the car to a spot beside the curb.

I could see that this time the dog was merely a hungry stray. I was approaching from upwind, and the instant he caught my scent, he turned and fled with his tail between his legs.

A shot rang out behind me, and the dog fell sideways; Wilson was making up for his cowardice earlier.

And despite the dog's innocence, I didn't care. Wilson was only following orders, and one less stray dog meant one less dog to get sick later.

I wasn't surprised to receive Carlisle's call that afternoon. "Carlisle, we gotta do something," I said by way of greeting.

"I know. Family meeting tonight at six. Let Rosalie know."

 **oOo**

 **Carlisle**

I was still troubled by thoughts of the little girl as everyone gathered around the table that evening. She was the youngest of the recent rabies patients; the most seriously injured. The others hadn't even been admitted to the hospital. I found myself second-guessing my decision to treat her myself; _knowing_ I was a cut above any microsurgeon the city hospital had didn't stop me from wondering if the better equipment would have made any difference.

I forced the thoughts from my mind and glanced down the table at Bree. She wasn't going to be pleased with our planned course of action; I had considered leaving her in the dark. But I knew it would be worse if she somehow found out after the fact what we had done.

"We have a problem in this town," I began quietly. "The ER's had four dog bite victims this week — all rabid. I just spend five hours trying to repair the injury to a little girl's arm, but there was so much damage to the nerves, I don't know…"

Alice's eyes lost their focus for a moment. "Her arm will always be a little stiff," she said, "but after another surgery and physical therapy, she'll be able to use it almost normally. And, yes, _you'll_ be doing the surgery, Carlisle." She glared at me. "If you had sent her off to that big city hospital, they would have botched it up and she'd have a crippled arm all her life."

I smiled, my heart suddenly lighter. "Thank you, Alice."

She didn't often give me prognoses on my patients; I had asked her not to. I was afraid that if she told me a patient was going to do well, I would trust her too much and miss something I would otherwise have caught, changing the outcome.

The one time I asked was when the decision had to be made whether to keep someone on total life support; if she "saw" them recovering, I would strongly encourage the family to keep them on life support. Of course, it was also useful to have Edward get a reading of their mental state — it was amazing how different it sometimes was from the EEG.

"We got two rabid dog reports today," Emmett put in. "One was just a half-starved stray, but the other was so crazed with sickness that it growled back at me. Just say the word, Carlisle; I'm ready."

Bree was staring at him with wide eyes. "Ready — for what?" she whispered.

Emmett laughed. "Dog hunt, kiddo!"

I nearly groaned; surely he could have come up with a more…diplomatic way of putting it. But then, tact had never been Emmett's strong suit.

Bree's eyes swung to my face, pleading with me to deny his words.

"Bree —" I began gently; she saw in my eyes that I was in agreement with Emmett on this.

"No!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "Daddy, you can't!" Spinning around, she ran from the room and slammed the door behind her; I only hoped she hadn't cracked the frame.

Esme looked from me to the place where Bree had gone and back again, and I nodded for her to go after our daughter. Esme stood and softly touched the back of my hand before slipping out to find Bree.

Jasper sat studying his hands. "I can see that we have to do something — the fear in this town is so thick I can almost _see_ it; it has me almost looking over my shoulder every time I come in close range. But…is it really safe to hunt that near humans, Carlisle?"

"We won't really be hunting," I pointed out. "More like tracking. It would probably be safe enough to drink the blood, but it smells so bad I, for one, would have to be seriously thirsty to consider it. I doubt the hunting instinct would take over even if we _wanted_ it to. Of course, if anyone thinks they can't handle it, they should stay behind."

"Or hunt 'em further away," Emmett suggested. "They're coming down into the town, but they gotta be comin' _from_ somewhere."

"You'll be fine, Jazz," Alice assured him, causing him to smile down at her.

"All right. We'll meet in the town green at midnight. Bring whatever you kill to the clearing on Thompkins' Hill; we'll burn the bodies."

Emmett grinned, baring his teeth. "Next mutt that growls back at me gets what's coming to it!"

I looked around the table. "So, is everybody in?"

They all nodded, and I stood up. "Midnight," I repeated by way of dismissal. Then I headed out to see if I could smooth things over with Bree.

She was in the stable, of course, her arms around King's neck and her face pressed to his side. Esme stood beside her, a hand on her shoulder, trying in a soft voice to soothe and reason with her.

"Bree," I said quietly.

She whirled, her eyes blazing. "Murderer!" she accused hotly.

I sighed, silently gesturing with my head for Esme to leave us as I crossed the stable to Bree's side. I cautiously rested a hand on the horse's neck; even after all this time, it still seemed odd to be able to be this close to an animal and not have it afraid of me. ***** "Bree, honey, I understand how thou feels. Let me assure thee, I wouldn't do this if I didn't feel it was absolutely necessary. And these dogs are sick, sweetheart; we'll just be putting them out of their misery."

"You could cure them!" Bree insisted stubbornly. Such faith the girl had in me…

"No, Bree," I said softly. "Once the symptoms show, there's no cure for rabies."

"But you could —"

"Bree. I'm not God."

She sighed, a quavering sigh that was half a sob, and laid her head against King again. The horse nickered softly.

"I won't help," she whispered finally.

"No one expects thee to, Bree." I put a hand on her shoulder, and she turned from the horse to bury her face in my chest, wrapping her arms around my waist. "I'm sorry I called you a murderer, Daddy."

"Shh, Bree," I soothed. "It's all right."

"I love you, Daddy."

I cradled my little girl close. She was my daughter in a way none of the others were. They could probably manage fine on their own without Esme and me; I wasn't so sure about Bree. "I love you, too, Bree," I murmured, softly kissing her hair.

 **oOo**

We met at midnight in the green. Esme had offered to stay home with Bree, but I had seen no reason why she shouldn't be fine by herself.

I sent the family out in pairs; Emmett and Jasper, Alice and Rosalie, Bella and Esme, Edward and I. I would have sent mated pairs, but I wanted Emmett with Jasper in case the smell of humans _was_ too much for him, and I didn't want to seem to be singling him out.

The heavy scent of rabies was really almost nauseating, but it was certainly easy enough to follow as we fanned out through the streets and yards and into the wooded areas.

By the time the sky began to lighten, we had disposed of ten rabid dogs, three raccoons, and a possum. "Is that all, Alice?" I questioned.

She closed her eyes. "I _think_ so."

"'Course, they'll still be calling the police for every stray dog or raccoon," Emmett point out.

"Just don't tell Bree if you shoot any," I said dryly. I stared into the remains of our fire. "From now on — in any town — if anyone comes across the scent of a rabid animal, you track it down and kill it. We should never have let this get out of hand like this."

Esme came to my side and gently laid a hand on my arm. "Carlisle — surely you don't feel responsible? You couldn't have known."

"No," I said slowly. "But I let it go longer than I should have."

Emmett snorted. "What are we now; the humans' guardians?"

"If need be, yes," I said quietly. "Come on. Let's go on home."

 **oOo**

Within a week, the news sources were cautiously optimistic that the rabies epidemic was over, though almost every animal-control official interviewed expressed surprise that it had ended so suddenly.

I smiled as I laid aside my paper. The humans would never know the reason why.

The End

 ***I** **llustration for this scene can be found at deviantart . com** _[_ _slash]_ **femalechauvinist** _[_ _slash]_ **art** _[_ _slash]_ **Betrayal-Forestalled-776805847**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Twilight alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


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